The Endless Journey
by Cy8erman
Summary: A story about Delirium that became more than that. 6 short stories detailing an encounter with each of the 7 Endless. R&R please! Rated T for the occasional curse, suggestive scene etc. Enjoy!
1. Searching for Delirium

Delirium is the only one who knows me. I have walked by her side many times. Together we have watched the mad, the great and the lesser ascend into blessed insanity. I have inhaled the aroma of cheap champagne that follows her, and tasted the cherry lipstick she smears awkwardly on her face. But over time I began to wonder if it was healthy being so close to Delirium, and indeed my own mind had begun to feel the strain of her presence.

So I left her side. I would not spend any longer in madness.

And my life became dull. My days were monotonous and uniform, each becoming a neverending cycle of repetition. And I missed Delirium.  
I sought her out at our old places. The asylum, the back alleys... but she had gone. So that night I resolved to seek instead her family.

I firstly entered the Dreaming. That bleak and blasted world of illusion. Dreams of terror and happiness whipped past me as I flew alongside Dream's raven to the Heart of the Dreaming, where the Dream Lord resided.  
"You seek Delirium? Why do you come here?"  
I told him my reasons, that dreams were the only way to madness. That the illusions created by our mind were often the cause of insanity.  
"Your logic is flawless. But dreams are but one path to Delirium, and I do not think it is yours." His black eyes twinkled like stars and my senses were robbed from me.

I found myself huddled beneath a low mist. Rats scurried past me and a small, ugly woman with breasts that sagged to her waist stood before me.  
Her voice rasped as she asked, "Why have you come to my domain?"  
I knew this to be Despair, whose home lies in that world which lies behind every mirror and mortals see all too often. I told her of my quest to find Delirium and she escorted me to the Heart of Despair.  
Together we watched young lovers end their lives, perverts face their families and old widows crying alone. Then she showed me myself, weeping freely after I left Delirium.  
"Despair is indeed a path to Delirium, as you have seen. But I do not think it is yours."  
And with that she clenched her fist and plunged her hooked ring into my left eye. She tore through aqueous and vitreous humour and blood flowed freely.

And I awoke on a flesh coloured floor that beat in time with my heart. Standing above me was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Or was it a man? Then I knew it to be Desire, twin of Despair and neither male, female or anything else. Desire was Desire.  
"What are you doing here mortal? None may enter the Heart of Desire."  
And I told her/him of my quest to find Delirium, and Desire led me to its hips. We copulated fiercely for days, until my interest waned and I once more sought to be at Delirium's side.  
"Desire is indeed a path to Delirium, as you have felt. But I do not think it is yours." And Desire kissed my cheek and my breath was stolen from me.

My ears were bombarded with music and my body was pressed in a thick crush of other people. Beside me danced a young woman with wild black hair, pale skin and wearing a torn black vest and tight black jeans. She turned to me, shouted something that was lost in the din, and took my hand.  
The concert was no more. Instead we lay on a boat of diamond and drifted along a river of rushing jewels.  
"Hey! So what can I do for you?"  
I told the woman, who I knew was Death, that I sought her youngest sibling and of my difficulties finding her.  
"I can't help you dude. Death is the end of the journey, not a part of the journey itself."  
I argued with her, mentioning that Death in itself is a journey, and is a part of the greater journey. When we die do we just fade? No we go to Heaven or Hell, or go on to become angels or demons or dreams.  
She thought for a moment and smiled at me. "You're right. I shouldn't do this 'cos I'll never hear the end of it if my brother finds out but..."

I was on a low grassy hill and beside me bearded man and black dog were kneeling by a marble sculpture. The man chiselled carefully, his face a knot of concentration, while the dog was very verbally criticising of the work.  
"You call that chiselling? If I had thumbs I'd show you how to really chisel. You may as well chuck this one out too, before you embarrass yourself."  
Then he caught my scent and turned to me with a low growl.  
"Calm yourself Barnabas, this is a guest. Welcome friend. Sit you down and join me for a glass of sangria. Of all the things your race have created sangria is the most divine."  
I complied and thanked him for the glass (which was exquisite) and we talked. As the sun sank beneath the sea and the air grew chill, Destruction smiled at me and asked me why I had come to him. I informed him of my quest, which grew more desperate with each visit to Delirium's family, and begged him to help me.  
He was silent for a long time then, "I cannot help you, lad. Though I want to. Del is my favourite, though I shouldn't pick and choose among family eh? And I think you would make her happy. But I cannot help you. If she doesn't want to be found, she can't be found."

I left Destruction then, and walked down the path of the hill. I paid no attention to my road and my feet were guided by something other than my own will. After hours of walking hedges began to appear alongside me and I slowly became conscious of the labyrinth I had somehow entered. My feet continued on.  
Turn. Right. Left. Left. Turn. The sky above was amber and the sun the colour of blood. Right. Left. Right again.  
I emerged from the twisted maze and look back. Behind me is only a long, straight path stretching back to the horizon. Ahead, robed and hooded in grey, stands the oldest of the Endless. He carries a large book chained to his wrist and bids me approach with his free hand. His eyes are hidden in shadow and his voice is like the turning of pages. He opens the book and slowly settles its wildly flapping pages until they stop at some unknown paragraph. He reads.  
_**"Yes. You arrive here now."**_ Destiny, who knows all, turns to me. _**"I know why you have come here. But you alone among mortals have no ending that I can see."**_  
I tremble and fear and long for the technicolour of Delirium instead of the drab, bleached Garden of Destiny. The oldest of the Endless straightens and turns his page. I peer over and see words forming on a formerly blank page. With a soft sigh of relief he points at a distant path.  
_**"That is where one destiny lies, mortal. Another lies behind you. You must decide which is to be yours."**__  
_My mouth opens but I close it before any sound can emerge. I think on what Destiny has said, as well as the words of the other Endless and make my decision.  
"My destiny... I do not care where it lies or what it entails so long as it involves my Heart's desire. I have passed through dream, despair and death to find it and now I long only for the arms of my beloved."  
Destiny turns back to me with a small smile on his lips and points to a dark cave. _**"Then that is your path, and know that you have my blessing and through me the blessing of my siblings."**__  
_I thank him and enter the darkness before me. I walk on and on for days. My body aches and my stomach roars in hunger and, no longer able to go on, I collapse to the damp floor.

I cannot go on. Instead I think on Destiny's words. Does my fate lay here? Am I destined to have one last encounter with death, before travelling on to the sunless lands beyond?  
Something crawls over my face and into my mouth and I almost gag. But it touches my tongue and... and I know that taste! That disgusting, maddening taste of chicken and telephone ice cream! Another joins it, this one tasting of week old plastic bags and lost dreams. A vortex of light raises me, revitalises me and I'm now standing on the head of a partially liquidising poodle-man. Beside me, short, beautiful and full of wide eyed innocence, stands Delirium. She looks at me with those mismatched eyes full of manic wisdom and smiles. She is bald, then ginger, then green, pink, purple, gold, black, spiked, blue.  
She reaches for my face and pulls me close to her, giving me the kiss that I have waited my entire life for.  
"uMm... I, erm, KinDa, y'KnoW.... MisssEd You. i ...i thinkIdId."  
We kiss once more, my heart (and my mind) melts and I hold her 2meiN a desperately MAD embrace.  
She now lays unclothed on a large sundial and waits for me. I approach, removing my clothes as I do, and as each garment disappears into a blaze of sunbeams and lollipops my mind goes with it.

And n0w I M stadngni ovA HUR AND Iiiim in L.O.V.E LUV w1D hur. AnD SH'eis smilING at me. TEEHEE IM NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKED! I cNA C hur sm1li1n5g at MEEEE and I cAnt'' hlelp bUT... HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Beein mAd iznt s0000ooO bad!


	2. Twinned

I peer hard into the looking glass, scrutinising the person that stares back at me. Features I have examined for decades now seem alien to me. The eyes, once young and full of innocence, now are weighted with the dissatisfaction of life and the burden of worries and doubts and shattered Dreams. The face, though, is my own... and yet it is not. My face is my mask, and the helm I don with reluctance. The pained eyes become aglow with false happiness and the downturned mouth painfully twists into the grin I use to hide myself.

And yet... it is all still there, requiring only a word, an action (or lack thereof), or a state of mind for the mask to crumple and shatter... like a broken mirror.

I continue to stare at the alien, unknown face which I now believe leers at me and mocks my self doubts and insecurities. And now my heart is torn as I feel Her hook enter. Now my body, my mind and my soul belong to Despair. The transition is fleeting, one moment I am here and the next I am there. I stand alone naked (literally and figuratively) amidst the mist that chills my soul and the rats that gnaw at my feet. I ignore them, knowing that what occurs here is (like Despair herself) what I make of it. Mirrors surround me, and in each is a reflection of myself; here I cry, here I laugh, or scream, or shout, or drink, or smoke, or smile, or frown. And I realise that no matter what my Destiny is, whether I drown in Dream or face Destruction for the sake of Desire or spiral madly into the sweet embrace of beloved Delirium, my present is only this; to wait in the dark realm of Desire's twin.

Many do not understand how Desire, that wonderful and androgynous entity, can be twinned with Despair. I remind you that Desire is cruel, and twisted, and selfish and, as her/his/its family would say: Desire is Desire. Desire and Despair are closer than any twin. Desire (the state not the entity) is harsh. No matter the outcome, whether it be love, rejection, fulfilment or loss, Desire will hurt you. And once your Heart's Desire is gone, you will find yourself where I now stand; Despairing the wasted time, yourself and the very object of your Desire.

So it is that I eventually meet she who is Despair. She is short, merely waist height, and as wide as she is tall. Her form is unclothed and repulsive, with skin the colour of unfulfilled Desires, and with breasts sagging to her groin. Her skin is covered, almost decoratively, with self inflicted scars (for Despair could be no other way). She looks at me with those empty, hard eyes and points to a circular mirror. I take her hint and peer into its depths and what I see causes me to start and slip deeper into her grip. My eyes glance at her briefly, and the hooked ring she wears glints menacingly in the lack of light. Though she does not smile, now or ever, the light in her eyes show she is pleased. She takes no pleasure in my pain but merely is satisfied she is fulfilling her duties.

My body, the mirror reveals, lies still amidst a crowd of people. The rope entwined around my neck is untouched as are my bloody wrists. None of those who surround me mourn my passing, merely clucking in their throats and grumbling "Ah well." Despair makes an approving noise at this, and I feel myself fall even deeper into her most repulsive grasp. With a wave of her thick, scarred arm the image and the mirror that held it are gone and I stand alone with her as she idly pets one of the many rats that infest her realm.

"I have shown you the truth mortal," she growls in an almost silent, albeit powerful, voice. "None will mark your Death, save my sister who you will meet when your time comes. Your heart is mine. That is to be your end, and your own hand shall cause it. You will find once you leave here that you can no longer enter the realm of Delirium. And you will weep.  
"Your already uneventful life will worsen as circumstances drive you deeper into the Despair which already devours you from within. You will Desire strongly, as you always have, but all that your heart wants shall be denied you. And you will weep.  
"Near the end you will spend more time looking into the mirror, and each glance will reveal something to you which you loathe. And you will weep.

"After that, mortal... it is only a matter of time."

Before I can reply she is moving toward me, breasts swinging like deflated balloons, and she stares into my core with those dead, grey eyes.

"Isn't it beautiful?"

And I run. I flee. I retreat like a coward, crying as I go. I seek desperately the realm of another of the Endless, not caring which. I long for the blandness of Destiny's garden, or the messy and cluttered bedroom of Death. But what I truly Desire, above all, is the smell of vomit and ice cream that surrounded Delirium when I last encountered her.

And that is what saves me. I move from Despair to Desire in an instant. It/He/She stands over me, and I'm hers/his/it's instantly. Everything wrong with my life can be solved by those rose lips. My troubles would be hidden by the long, dark hair as I run my hands through it. My worries will seem as important as a mote of dust in the breeze as I let my lips linger over milky white skin. My cares would dissolve as we swayed to the beat of the music that only two beings, so perfectly matched, can create in the hours of passion that would fill each night.

He/She/It is everything... and it/she/he is not. I realise, though gradually, that my lust for her/it/him is just that. It/He/She is not, despite the irony, enough. I can find nothing about Desire to Desire.  
Desire realises this and almost immediately the spell is broken. Where once stood an attractive feminine figure now stands only a perfectly androgynous being of ambiguous gender.

"Well mortal, you certainly showed me." A long, thin cigarette appears between his/her/it's fingers, as white as her/it's/his skin, and is lit with a heart shaped lighter. "Now, why are you here?"

I tell it/her/him of my encounter with her/it's/his twin and my desperate flight from that realm. I am rewarded with knife-like laughter; sharp, dangerous, and threatening.

"Poor human! You haven't escaped. Desire and Despair go hand in hand, twinned as one perfect being. One Desires, then Despairs of that Desire until something new comes along. Then the cycle begins once more and it starts all over again. It will be so with you. Delirium's closed her realm, as she does when she has an 'episode,' and it may be a while before she reopens it. "

Without any movement we are no longer where we once stood, instead we stand in Desire's gallery and upon the wall are the pictures which he/it/she uses to speak with it's/her/his siblings. I see the alien helm of Dream and the ankh of Death, and where Delirium's swirling vortex of colour should be there is only black framed by wood.

"You see? And now my point is proven. Already you begin to leave my realm and slip back into that of my sister and twin. This will be your life, mortal, for the remainder of your days."

She/He/It leans forward and passionately, mockingly kisses me. "Remember this for when you next return here: mortals are the playthings of Desire."

And with those words I see the flesh coloured realm of Desire fade into grey. Desire's smile lingers briefly, teeth like blades glinting in moonlight, before being lost to the fog and mist of utter Despair. I lose my footing, overcome with a sense of futility, and drop to my knees into the growing mist. Footsteps approach and when the sound of their approach stops I look forward and see two small pudgy feet, riddled with scars, attached to thick, pale legs. My head droops even before the rasping voice flatly observes, "So you return to me."


	3. What's the word?

I have encountered many of the Endless, those seven entities who are older than gods and galaxies and universes, and who personify all things that mortals experience, in my short life. I have spiralled into madness with Delirium and together we became music, colour, painted rain dripping off of a small rat's wellingtons, a pile of bones carved into the shape of a pile of bones, and many other insane and wonderful things. I have been locked with the twins, Despair and Desire, and felt myself pulled from one extreme emotion to the next. Consumed with lust one minute, and wallowing in self pity the next.

As all mortals must at some time enter the realms of the Endless, I knew it was merely a matter of time until I encountered the next of their illustrious and omnipotent family. I was shocked then to find myself encountering the next while travelling along a country road. He was a tall, well built man with red hair, a booming voice and dressed in very dated clothing. Upon his shoulder he carried a knapsack of red and white polka dot and as he neared I caught a badly whistled tune coming from his lips. I had been walking for many days, alone and dulled with the endless fields I had at first delighted in seeing, and so stopped the stranger and begged him sit, talk and partake of bread and cheese with me. He smiled as I spoke and replied almost instantly in that powerful voice, "Aye laddie! Bread and cheese is tempting enough, but polite talk with an old friend...that is indeed a rarity!"

Confused as to his words but still eager for a sound that wasn't the call of some dull barnyard animal, we walked to the top of a nearby hill and sat under the noon sun. He placed his knapsack against the trunk of a tree and removed a tankard which was strapped to the pole. Smiling, he offered me some and I gladly accepted motioning for him to help himself to bread and cheese. The liquid hit my throat and I was overcome by a sweet sensation more pleasing than anything I had drunk before. I gasped and earnestly inquired as to the tankards contents. "Ah this? Its mead. Real drink. Hasn't been brewed for about... oh, must be nigh on three centuries now. But this is a fresh batch. Brewed in 1732 for the King himself!"  
The odd words would have doubtless confused those who had had no dealings with the Endless, yet the way he spoke recalled to me his identity instantly. This was Destruction, who had guided me previously in my attempts to secure his sister's affections. He saw the look of realisation on my face and laughed, a harsh, warm and full sound that echoed over the hills. "Aye lad! Destruction. Or, as my family care to call me, 'the Prodigal!'" This last he added in a comical fashion in an attempt to hide the pain that I briefly saw glimmer under his bushy eyebrows.  
Destruction, unlike the rest of his family, had abandoned his duties and refused to pass on his realm to another aspect of himself. He had said life will continue without him, creating and destroying as it goes, but without him. And it did.

We spoke then on banalities for hours. Destruction had tales that spanned not only millennia but light years. He told me of the time he was mistaken for Dream by the people of Mars, extinct at the hands of an alien menace. He remarked upon the obsessive nature of the insect-like inhabitants that occupied a mudball of a world and who thought they had reached Heaven. We laughed together as he informed me there was a race of beings that lived in the mane of a donkey in Skegness who thought they ruled the Universe, but in reality were terrified of the many 'gods' who rode their home. I, for my part, told him of his family, many of whom I had spent at least a modicum of time with. His belief that they would have changed very little was mostly correct, however he was surprised to learn that Destiny had blessed my journey to find Delirium.  
When I spoke of Delirium Destruction became newly reticent and introspective, and probing was answered with merely a sigh. We sat in silence, finishing both the bread and cheese and Destruction's mead, as the sky slowly turned to deep velvet. Finally Destruction spoke, and said simply, "Change." The word jolted me, interrupting as it did the previous silence.

"Change?" I replied.

"Aye... Change was always the problem. Times change, people change and gods change...eventually so must we. Poor Delirium."

At mention of the name my heart immediately yearned for her. I wondered when next we would meet and if we would take the form of ants and dance down the gullet of an aardvark, become beads of moisture and rain down upon a desert or simply melt together and flow over rocks and forests and cities and people and finally rise into the heavens as pure golden light. I collected my thoughts and ventured a question, "Why 'poor Delirium?" Destruction slowly reached up and pulled branches from the tree that cast its shadow over us. Placing them in a pile between us, he extended his arm and fire burst forth from the wood.

"Delirium knew, better than we, that change was inevitable. Many years ago, before your sun had even been birthed, she was Delight. She brought nothing but joy to all who met her, or whose lives she touched. Beings came across time and space to worship her and leave offerings of thanks at her feet.  
"Then she came to me, in my realm, and asked why the flowers in her garden were melting. Why the humming birds screamed. Why she found it so hard to be happy. It was then I noticed the mismatched eyes, the difficulty she had talking or holding one shape...and from there-" He broke off, turned and wiped at his eyes. I said nothing of the moisture that glinted on his fingertips; however the straining of the tree's trunk became almost terrifying in its volume.

"From there it worsened. At each family gathering she was less collected, more eccentric. And then, one day, Delight was no more. We called her Delirium, or Del, and never even asked why. It was as though she had always been the way she was. Is.  
"It scared us. It scared us so much that we just stopped. And in stopping we stagnated...Change."

He reached forward and hefted his load onto his back once more.

"Delirium once asked my big brother what the word was that let you know time was passing, and that things weren't the same anymore."

Destruction snorted in bittersweet amusement as he turned and bid me adieu. "Change. The word, lad, is change."


End file.
